


pleasing you

by luckycharmz



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Future, Bathtub Sex, Cum Play, Dom/sub, M/M, Mickey in lingerie, Pet Names, Possessive Ian Gallagher, Praise Kink, Shy Mickey Milkovich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:00:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23074357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckycharmz/pseuds/luckycharmz
Summary: Changed title from Earned it.—Chapter 2:Ian sighs, head falling back and arms settling around the tub. “My cock won’t ride itself, Mickey baby.” Ian looks at Mickey through his lashes, “you hear me?”Mickey stumbles forward, at last stroking Ian’s hardened cock. He moves the lace aside and lines himself up, slowly, slowly sinking down. His hands grip onto the side of the tub as he bottoms out, whimpering and heaving loudly.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 52
Kudos: 266





	1. Earned it.

**Author's Note:**

> I realized so late (although no one commented this) that Mickey does take a sip of Ian’s whiskey and they he drives. I do not condone drinking and driving so please just assume he didn’t drink it?? <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Face down, ass up,” Ian throws a pillow on the floor and Mickey obediently listens, laying his left cheek on it. His ass up and displayed in front of Ian. “Such a good boy, aren’t you?”
> 
> “Ye-ah...” Mickey moans, eating up Ian’s words and feeling his cock swell against the lace.
> 
> “Yeah, what?” Ian asks, moving to the edge of the couch so Mickey’s ass is in between his knees.
> 
> “Good boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing smut. I got inspired and this happened. It may not be everyone’s cup of tea so don’t feel like you need to read and comment something rude. 
> 
> For those who will be reading, enjoy. 
> 
> Inspired by The Weeknds song, Earned it.
> 
> \+ [mood board](https://i.ibb.co/kGH8c87/6-D9169-BF-178-E-4117-A95-C-F9-FEB18-D6777.jpg)

Growing up in the South Side, both Ian and Mickey had very early on understood they weren’t destined for much. Picking up a job here and there, staying out of prison, smoking a joint throughout the long hours of the day and sneaking around. Thats how their day to day lives worked, up until Ian woke up one day with a buzzing.

That day he’d realized he didn’t want to be another fuck up from the South Side. He knew he’d get out along side Mickey and work his ass off for it. He deserved it, they deserved it.

Now he’s 25 years old and working as a lawyer for the highest ranked firm in New York. He lives in a high rise apartment with his husband, Mickey fucking Milkovich. Who, not to brag, but owns one of the the most high in demand bars in the city, busy every day of the week. In the past they’d have to sneak around and plan in order to see each other. It had been exhausting but it was survival so they sucked it up and who knew it would set up for their future? With both their busy schedules, they’ve made it a habit to go out for dinner on Friday nights or order in, so long as they’re together.  


x-x-x

The hours are ticking down as Mickey waits for his other half to get home. It’s later than Ian’s usual time to get home on a Friday and Mickey doesn’t want to sound like a needy bitch for wanting Ian home, but..

Mickey knows with Ian’s job he’s bound to lose track of time, though it hasn’t happened much. But when there’s a bigger deal on the table, Ian demands nothing short of perfection. It’s something Mickey’s always admired about Ian, his pure determination to get what his heart and mind are set on. 

He comes to terms with Ian being late, knowing they’ll have breakfast come tomorrow morning and spend the whole day together. But he wanted tonight.. more specifically 12am. 

Eventually he orders Chinese take out and settles on the couch, the city view through the large panel windows lighting up the penthouse along with the TV. He eats and clean up, knowing it’s something Ian appreciates before laying on the couch. He tries his hardest not to fall asleep but he gives in when his eyes start to droop heavily. 

x-x-x

Ian walks through the apartment door and he’s immediately hit was a lack of light. He figures Mickey must be asleep so he quietly toes his shoes off along with his coat and drops his briefcase by the door. He makes his way inside and his breath hitches. Any and all words he is about to say are caught in his throat and fatigue washes off him. 

Mickey is curled up on the couch, and though a naked Mickey is a sight for sore fucking eyes, seeing him in _this_ is what makes Ian’s heart skip a beat. He’s wearing a little [lingerie set](https://gloimg.zafcdn.com/zaful/pdm-product-pic/Clothing/2019/09/04/goods-first-img/1568942791437919553.jpg). A short plaid skirt and overtop his bust a lace corset. White, lacy stockings that stop right under the curve of his ass, making it look more plump than ever and Ian’s pretty sure he’s drooling. 

He slips his suit jacket off and throws it on one of the couches, unbuttoning and rolling his sleeves up as he moves forward. He lets the pads of his fingers run up Mickey’s smooth calves all the way to his thighs and then he takes a seat on the coffee table in front of him. The TV light illuminating Mickey’s porcelain complexion, making him look like an angel.

“Mickey baby? Wake up,” Ian whispers, eyes raking up and down Mickey and holy fuck is Ian heating up. He unbuttons the top two buttons of his black dress shirt. 

“Mm _.._ Ian?” Mickey murmurs, his voice raspy and soft. It takes him a moment to rub his eyes and really take in that Ian’s home as he moves to a sitting position. “Hey,” Mickey scoots to the edge of the couch and places a wet kiss over his mouth. 

“Hey, yourself. Stand up for me?” Ian watches as Mickey slowly stands up and once again he’s taken by surprise. Mickey’s hips make the skirt lift upwards and the corset fitted around Mickey’s form shows off all his curves. He rests his hands over his hips, running up and down the curve of the corset. “So pretty, Mickey. So beautiful,” Ian praises, leaning forward and placing a kiss on his clothed stomach. 

Mickey hums contentedly, the praises warming him all throughout as he snakes his arms around Ian’s neck. “Sorry I fell asleep.”

“I’m the one getting home so late, Mick. I should be sorry, not you.” Ian looks up at Mickey apologetically and then his eyes flicker to his hair. It’s freshly buzzed on the sides and slicked back. “Your  [hair](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/55/e0/09/55e009244dc42ec17beb5503fb115767.jpg) looks nice, baby,” he muses, licking his lips. 

“Got it cut today, thought you’d like it.” Mickey shrugs but smiles, looking away before Ian grabs his chin. 

“I love it, looks so fucking sexy. All of you.” Ian runs his eyes up and down Mickey’s body and then back into his eyes. “Any reason?”

Mickey looks up at the clock and sees its half past twelve, “it’s after midnight,” he whispers.

Ian looks up at him confused, “yeah?”

Mickey shakes his head and leans by Ian’s ear, “happy birthday, handsome.” Mickey kisses his ear and then leans down to kiss his nose before moving back. 

Ian’s brows furrow as he looks at his wrist, the watch telling him both the time and date as realization bestows. “Oh.”

It doesn’t surprise Mickey that Ian forgot his own birthday. Growing up they didn’t really care for special occasions but now they like to keep in mind each others birthdays. “Thought I’d give you your present at twelve.. but then I fell asleep waiting.” Mickey shakes his head when he sees Ian’s mouth open. “Wanna unwrap it?” He raises a brow and sways his hips for show. 

Ian runs his palm down Mickey’s chest and looks up at him with darkened eyes. “Did this all for me?”

“Always for you, Ian. Everything is for you.”

Ian makes a humming noise as he stands, now towering over Mickey. He pushes the coffee table back with one leg, eyes locked on Mickey. “Sit.” He smiles. Making his own way to the couch as Mickey falls to his knees in front of him. “Baby, look at you, can make me cum just from looking at you like this. S’fuckin’ pretty.” Ian cups Mickey’s jaw and grazes his thumb over his bottom lip. 

Ian’s words take Mickey by surprise, hearing him say that just looking at him can make him cum arouses him to no end. He swallows thickly, Ian looks so damn earnest and sounds honest that Mickey is left helpless to just believe. He starts to rock down on his own legs, looking up into Ian’s heated gaze. “Wanna be pretty for you, Ian. Wanna be so good for you,” he sounds desperate and looks it too with how he’s starting to breathe heavily. Completely giving himself over to Ian. 

Ian grabs both of Mickey’s cheeks and pulls him close suddenly, smashing their lips together eagerly. He tilts his head and fucks his tongue into Mickey’s mouth, over and over until he’s breathless and needs to break for air. “Turn for me, Mickey.”

Mickey turns, his calves and thighs pressed together as he gives Ian a view of his backside. 

“Can eat you right up, look perfect like this.” Ian’s socked foot pushes Mickey’s skirt up and now he can see the lace underwear that makes Mickey’s ass look so good. “Look so delicious, Mickey.”

“Mhm..” Mickey whines as he stars to hump his lap, desperate for Ian’s touch. “E.. _please_.”

“Face down, ass up.” Ian throws a pillow on the floor and Mickey obediently listens, laying his left cheek on it. His ass up and displayed in front of Ian. “Such a good boy, aren’t you?” 

“Ye-ah...” Mickey moans, eating up Ian’s words and feeling his cock swell against the lace. 

“Yeah, _what?_ ” Ian asks, moving to the edge of the couch so Mickey’s ass is in between his knees. 

“Good boy.”

“Whose?” Ian runs a flat hand down Mickey’s spine and back up, slowly. 

“Y...yours.. your good boy, E. Just yours,” Mickey pants, arcing his back at the feel of Ian’s touch. He bites down on his lip as his hands clench the pillow under his head, trying to steady himself. 

“Mhm, right answer.” Ian grabs Mickey’s hips and pulls them back, letting his ass hit his own clothed cock a few times. Watching as Mickey’s ass bounces and shakes. “Look at this fat ass, Mickey. Can eat you all day, fuck you with my tongue. You love that, don’t you? When I eat you out?”

Mickey whimpers under him, loud and pleading as he clenches his eyes shut. He wants more, needs more but he knows exactly what he signed up for when he threw on this get up. This is all for Ian. “Mm-more,” Mickey begs, voice shaking. 

“So greedy, baby. Like that about you.” Ian flips the skirt up and hungrily gawks at Mickey’s ass. “So perfect.” He grabs two handfuls of Mickey’s ass and squeezes hard. “Fuck, Mickey, just wanna stay like forever. Your ass and these thighs.” Ian slicks his lips before pulling at the lace of Mickey’s underwear until it’s bunched up and then let’s go. Watching as Mickey’s greedy ass swallows it all up.

“Fuck, Ian.. w-want... touch.. please.”

He grabs between Mickey’s cheeks and roughly squeezes. Rubbing him hard and letting his fingers run up his cleft. He can see Mickey’s thighs trembling, a flush spreading all over his legs. “Like that? Like when I play around with you, use you like you’re my little toy?” Ian’s voice is low and commanding as he leans down and nuzzles into Mickey’s ass. Hot breath fanning over even hotter skin before sucking a bruise on his cheek. 

“Fuck, Ian. F..feels s-so good. Yeah...” Mickey murmurs, thrusting back into Ian’s mouth. 

Ian hums, biting down on Mickey’s plump cheek as his hands squeeze Mickey’s thighs. “Sit up, pretty boy. Wanna see you.” Ian slaps Mickey’s ass, already seeing his hand print as he hears him hiss. 

Mickey sits up and turns slowly, mouth parted and panting. His neck is sweating along with the rest of him, the corset feels even tighter but he loves it. 

Ian yanks the bow tie and watches Mickey fall right into his crotch. Mickey nuzzles into it and let’s himself inhale the husky scent. He moans lowly as his hands move to Ian’s knees but all too soon he’s being moved away. 

Ian loosens the bow tie before taking it off and wrapping it around his own neck, still undone. “Knees, baby.” 

Instantly Mickey is propped on his knees, looking up at Ian impatiently as he feels both hands grab his ass. He tucks his  face in Ian’s chest as Ian places his chin on his shoulder. Fondling his ass, groping and spreading it violently. “Yeah, Mickey.. so good. This ass, so full and tight.. want you to fuck my face with it,” Ian gasps, moving back and seeing Mickey looking right back at him. “Wanna sit on my face? Want you to make me forget about everything but you.” Ian’s hands move to Mickey’s face and pull him close. 

“Yes. Please. Wanna-- ride you.. do whatever you want,” Mickey pleads breathlessly before crashing their lips together. Sucking Ian’s tongue between his lips sloppily while he shuffles to straddle him. Dry humping Ian as they suck each other’s faces, both moaning messes until Mickey rips away. 

“Look at my princess, looking all fucked out already. So sexy like this,” Ian praises. He makes Mickey stand and pulls his lace panties down his legs then brings them to his mouth. Ian licks them before stuffing them into his pocket. “Can’t wait to take those to work on Monday.” Ian grins devilishly then runs his hands over Mickey’s stockings. “Ride me with these pretty thighs, baby.” Ian lays down on the couch and yanks Mickey down by the skirt. 

“Fuck, man...” Mickey whispers straddling Ian’s chest. He looks at him for a beat before sitting above his mouth. Mickey grinds down slowly at first, feeling Ian’s tongue lap at his hole and then picks up his pace. Bucking into Ian’s mouth, his dick slapping Ian in the face. It’s a sight that will no doubt be instilled in Mickey’s mind. 

Ian snakes his arms under Mickey’s thigh and pushes his skirt up. Rimming his hole with his tongue and biting down on Mickey’s thick thighs. His jaw throbs with how hard Mickey is riding his face but he revels in it. Ian grabs hold of Mickey’s hips to stop him and make him rolls his hips instead. 

“Yeah.. Ian.. so fucking good.. fuck, _fuck..._ ” Mickey moans and pants noisily. He throws his head back and drinks in the feel of Ian eating him out, his ass completely drenched in Ian’s spit. 

Ian spits into Mickey’s hole and makes slurping noises. Losing his breath and choking as Mickey rolls his hips more vigorously. 

Mickey moves off, spit dripping between his legs as Ian gets up too. He rips open Ian’s expensive dress shirt and hears the buttons go flying. Palms running up and down Ian’s tight body. 

“Get on your stomach and lift your ass up.” Ian shoves Mickey down by the neck and sits with one leg on the couch. Ian flips his skirt up and spits in between his cheeks. “Such a pretty ass, Mick.” Ian watches the spit dribble down before attacking with his mouth. Ian’s tongue running up and down and sucking his hole wetly while his hands grip at Mickey’s cheeks. 

“Ian... fuck.. _yes.._ ” Mickey moans, shivering at the feel of Ian’s tongue sliding in and out of him. “C’mon.. fuck me, E. Please, _fu-ck.._ please.” 

“Mickey,” Ian growls. “Whose the boss?” he asks lowly. 

Mickey shudders under Ian’s commanding voice. “You. You’re the boss.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Ian says politely though his undertone is menacing. He raises himself off the couch, “now turn.” 

Mickey turns embarrassingly quick and Ian can’t help but chuckle. 

“So desperate. Look at you, fuck.” Ian sits back down on Mickey’s dick. He rests a hand by Mickey’s head and leans down. His forefinger rubbing all over Mickey’s lips. “Can feel that dick pressed against my ass. So fucking hard me, huh?” 

“Yes..yes..yes..” Mickey breathes, bucking his hips upwards. Desperate for friction. “Fr’you..” 

Ian runs a flat palm over Mickey’s chest down to the band of his skirt and back up to the fabric connecting the corset with the collar around his neck and tugs him up by it. He twists it around his knuckles before ripping it apart. Watching Mickey’s neck flush and breath hitch. 

“Sorry. Wanna see this beautiful neck.” Ian leans forward and smears his lips all over. Then sucks bruises all over his skin.

Mickey hisses and whines, tugging Ian’s sweaty long strands harshly. “Ian...” 

“Take my fucking pants off. Now.” 

Mickey stands on wobbly legs and unbuckles Ian’s pants, taking them down with his boxers in one go. Just as he kneels, Ian’s leaking dick hits him in the face and he grins. 

Ian smears the head over Mickey’s lips, watching Mickey lick away like a hungry animal. Ian’s one hand grips Mickey’s cheek while his other hand holds his cock and slaps it against Mickey’s tongue. “Such a good little cockwhore.” 

Ian falls back on the couch, “ass up and suck. Fucking need that mouth on me.” He pats the couch and opens his legs. 

Mickey does as he’s told, arcing his back and takes Ian’s full length down his throat in one go. He hums around his cock, one hand jerking the base while the other rests on Ian’s thigh. 

“Yeah, baby... just like that, such a good boy.” Ian slides his right hand up Mickey’s back to his ass that is propped high in the air and without warning slips a finger in. “Always so fucking tight and hot for me.” He throws his head back and adds another finger. 

Mickey continues letting Ian’s head hit his throat, gagging and drooling sloppily all over Ian’s throbbing cock. He moves off and spits on the head before swirling his tongue and taking him down again. Drowning in the heady and sweet scent of Ian. 

“Fuck.. fuck.. Mickey. Take me so good..” Ian mumbles, fucking his fingers quicker into Mickey before pulling out and smacking his ass.  The slap causing Mickey to jerk forward and Ian’s cock to fall out of his mouth. Mickey’s face now pressing into Ian’s lap and his dick resting against his face. “Ian, fuck. A-again...” 

“Yeah?” Ian grins and smacks Mickey’s ass again. “Like when I spank this fat ass?” He caresses Mickey’s ass, looking at it with hooded eyes. “So fucking red, so sexy, Mickey.” 

“Want...” Mickey murmurs, propping himself on his hands and looking at Ian with moist, ruby lips. 

“Want what, baby? Tell me what you want,” Ian says, petting Mickey’s hair and smoothing down his arms. 

“Wanna ride your cock, Ian. Want it,” Mickey whines, biting down on his lips. 

“Course you fucking do. It’s yours, _c’mere_.”Ian pulls Mickey by his arms until he‘s straddling him. Their leaking cocks pressing against each other as they make out. 

Mickey rolls his hips on Ian’s thighs and lets his head fall back, the heat and pleasure of the moment engulfing him. 

Ian takes that as his cue to lean forward and attach his teeth to Mickey’s neck, sucking down until he can taste blood. 

“C’mon, lemme sit on the throne, Gallagher,” Mickey begs, standing on his knees and lining Ian’s cock up with his hole. 

The moment Ian feels the tip touch Mickey, he bucks upward roughly while pushing Mickey down at the same time. 

“Jesus, what the f-“ the curse instantly fades the second he rolls his hip and lets the pain turn to pleasure. “Ian..” 

“You asked for it.” Ian smirks, placing his hands on Mickey’s thighs and squeezing. 

“Fucker,” Mickeys head drops as he begins a steady pace. Just when he thinks he’s fully seated, he sinks even lower. Ian filling him up like no tomorrow. “Ian.. so good.. so fucking big.” 

Ian slams upwards in time with Mickey, the slapping of skin and heated moans are the only thing to be heard. “Such a pretty boy. Dressed up all sexy for me. Needy for me.” Ian pants, looking up at Mickey in awe. 

Mickey whose riding him down into the couch and dripping with sweat. Mickey whose grunting and groaning loudly, letting it fill their apartment. With each thrust, his nails dig further into Ian’s shoulders. “So f-full... _s’close_ ,” Mickey cries out. 

Ian can only hum in agreement before grabbing Mickey’s cock  and spitting onto it. Ian pumps Mickey hard and fast, his thumb swiping over his purple, leaking slit. “You like that? Feel good, baby?” Ian urges on, not stopping his movements. 

“Yes... fuck, yes,” Mickey grunts, pounding into Ian harder and before he knows it, his swollen cock is spilling into Ian’s hand and on his chest. “Fuck.” 

“Mickey baby,” Ian breathes, smearing the cum on his hands over Mickey’s hardened nipples. Twisting and tweaking them while ramming into Mickey even harder. “Get on your knees.” 

Ian starts tugging on his cock relentlessly. His other hand opening Mickey’s mouth and thumb rubbing his tongue. The image of Mickey on his knees and begging all too much for Ian. 

“Paint me, E. Want it so bad,” Mickey whimpers, rocking onto himself with his tongue out. Looking like a bitch in heat waiting to explode. 

“Fucking cum slut. Always so hungry for it.” Ian stands and spits on Mickey’s face once, twice then three time. Drenching Mickey’s face and with another tug, streams of white hot liquid are spurting all over Mickeys eyes, cheek and into his mouth. He milks out his orgasm to the very last drop that drips down to Mickey’s chin. “ _Holy fuck._ Look at you.” Ian falls back onto the couch in shock, beaming at Mickey. 

Mickey licks his lips clean before sliding two fingers down his wet cheek and placing them into his mouth. Fucking his fingers into his mouth before sucking them clean, all while looking at Ian. “S’fuckin’ sweet. Wanna taste?” 

Ian nods and slides down onto the floor in front of Mickey’s knees. Pulling him close and connecting their lips fervently. Their tongues and teeth clash, it’s wet and sloppy and sexy and hot. They move apart only when they start to feel their lips swell and bitten. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, Mick. You know that? So fuckin’ hot it’s unbelievable.” 

Mickey sits in Ian’s lap and lets his head drop shyly. Playing with the hem of his skirt before looking up at Ian through his lashes. “Thanks,” Mickey whispers. 

“Don’t go all shy on me now, baby. You have my cum and spit all over your face and-“ Ian leans closer and licks a stripe over Mickey’s chin and down his neck. “Mm.. slutty little school girl, hm?” 

Mickey snakes his arms around Ian’s neck and tucks his face there before whispering, “just for you.” 

Ian smiles and holds Mickey tighter as they both revel in the post orgasmic glow. Ian kisses his bare shoulder and nuzzling into Mickey’s neck, inhaling his favorite scent. “You should go to work like this. Smelling like sex and my cum all over your face, I’d pay to see that.” 

“All your money’s already mine, Gallagher,” Mickey responds, moving back to look at Ian and shifting uncomfortably. 

“Oh. Is that so?” Ians raises a brow and grins goofily. “Thanks for my birthday gift, baby. You're all I need.” Ian leans in and kisses Mickey’s cum and spit soaked cheek. 

Words fail Mickey at that very moment. Sure he’s heard Ian say those words before but they never cease to send a shiver through his body. The feeling of being needed so genuinely and deeply, to see it and hear it. He’s a greedy man for Ian Gallagher and he doesn’t fucking care. 

Ian carefully unzips the corset from the back while looking at Mickey before slipping it off along with the rest of the top. Mickey visibly relaxes, he loved the tight, suffocating feeling but now he loves this feeling; free and safe in Ian’s arms.

“Jesus,” Ian sighs, hands instinctively rubbing up and down Mickey’s reddened ribs. Mickey hisses and Ian frowns before telling him to lay on the couch. He goes to their room and then to the kitchen before coming back in a fresh pair of boxers. He peels Mickey’s skirt and stockings off with a smirk, knowing he’ll be seeing that again then cleans Mickey’s crotch and stomach with a damp cloth. Ian slips the clean boxers on Mickey then uses a different cloth to wipe Mickey’s face gently, “remind me to take a picture next time.” Ian has a smug look on his face and gets an all too weak shove in return. 

“Mm, don’t be late _next time,_ ” Mickey murmurs, a teasing grin on his face as he lets Ian clean him up. His eyes flutter shut for a moment and then he feels a warm liquid being poured over his stomach. Mickey opens his eyes to see Ian massaging oil all over his skin and he can’t help but melt into the feeling. 

Ian’s large hands rub all over the marks on Mickey’s body where he knows it stings,  though Mickey won’t say so. He leans down and kisses Mickey’s belly button before nuzzling into it. “So soft,” Ian coos but feels Mickey’s arms pull him away. 

“Don’t do that... ”

“Why not? Your belly is so soft and I fucking love it. Fuck you very much.” Ian furthers his point by kissing all over it sloppily and nipping on the flesh. 

“Whatever,” Mickey says because he doesn’t have it in himself to tell Ian to fuck off. This feels too fucking good and Ian knows him better than anyone. Knows he loves this fucking feeling. Mickey’s hands run through Ian’s messy hair.

Ian moves down to Mickey’s thighs and calves, massaging his knees with extra care. “Turn over, bub,” and Mickey does, one arm hanging off the couch and the other tucked under his head. Ian kneads his shoulders so sweetly and delicately that Mickey thinks he might break. He feels fragile and small and so fucking loved. It’s overwhelming to think how far they’ve come and what they have now. Each other. 

Ian rubs all over his back where he sees marks from the corset and then pulls his boxers down. Massaging his plump, red cheeks with love and care, especially under the skin where his thighs meet. He places a kiss on each bruised cheek and then his lower back. There is no sexual intent behind it or need for anything more, this is Ian’s turn to take care of Mickey. Ian pulls the boxers back up and when Mickey turns back over his eyes are red and glossy and it breaks Ian’s heart. 

“Hey, whoa. What’s wrong, Mickey? Did I hurt you? Shit- I’m-“ He crouches down so he’s level to Mickey and rests a warm hand on Mickey’s cheek, wiping his tears. 

Mickey shakes his head. Leave it to Ian to think he did something wrong, to make things right and apologize immediately. Mickey holds Ian’s wrist, “I love you. I love you so fucking much, Ian.” 

Ian’s face falls and a sad smile takes over instead. “Happy tears, huh?” he murmurs, his own eyes turning wet as he leans over Mickey’s lips. “I fucking love you, too,” he says before kissing him slow and languid and sweet, like fresh honey dripping from a comb.

Ian lays between Mickey and the couch and Mickey tucks his head under Ian’s chin. Legs tangled and body’s pressed together with no space to spare. Here, right now, they couldn’t be happier for fighting for this. They deserve this. They _earned_ this.


	2. work hard, play harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things to take into consideration; Ian’s office is just as [Harvey’s](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/41/56/9c/41569ca347f63a5b97069045cfe4ce57.jpg) in the show suits. + his secretary is Donna, also from suits because she’s my spirit animal and I love her so much.
> 
> other rooms mentioned; [house aesthetic](https://twitter.com/interiorporn1/status/1293277236624330753?s=21), [lunch date](https://pin.it/3cPulaI)
> 
> this is just a fun little piece i wrote in which ian and mickey are happy because once again this fandom has a thing for shitting on ian and it gets so tiring. like what the fuck is an iangallagherredemption tag? lmfaoo please i have to laugh. sometimes i forget that there are kids in this fandom who spend all day bitching online. let my baby be happy.

The weekends over which means the fun is over. After three days of birthday sex, surprises and a romantic dinner on the balcony- courtesy of Mickey, it’s time for Ian to head back to the firm. 

Ian’s looking for his lucky black shirt, the one with the diamond _M_ cufflinks. He’s got a important meeting this afternoon and that shirt for some reason always makes him feel at ease, as though Mickey is there with him. But it’s no where to be seen. 

“Mick?” he calls out from their bedroom. “Baby, you know where my shirt is?” 

Ian gets no answer back so he quickly throws on his next best shirt and grabs his suit jacket. He slips into his dress shoes, running a hand over his perfectly combed hair before making his way down the hall. 

“Mickey,” he calls out again, hearing noise coming from the kitchen. He stops short when his eyes finally catch sight and his breath hitches. Mickey’s wearing his shirt, nothing more, nothing less. Ian places his jacket over the barstool, gaze never leaving Mickey. “That’s where my shirt is,” he says. 

“Shit, hey,” Mickey says, still not turning as he moves to his tippy toes to grab a pair of glasses from the cupboard. “Was going for laundry anyway.”

Ian doesn’t move, not for a long moment as he watches the button up rise over Mickey’s bare ass. He walks over to him, lifting the shirt up and admiring the view. “Could get used to this,” he murmurs into his neck before wrapping his arms around Mickey’s waist. 

“You already are.” Mickey sighs and leans back, nose brushing over Ians jaw. 

“Mhm, so good to me,” Ian hums, pressing Mickey against the counter.

The cool counter pressed against Mickey’s bare cock sends a jolt through his body, one that Ian feels without a doubt. Mickey gapes and his head lolls backwards, body falling limp in Ian’s hold.

“Too easy,” Ian teases, pressing a kiss to his ear. He turns the stove off and moves the pan to the cool burner. “Close your eyes.”

Mickey does without hesitation.

“Open them.”

Mickey does. Only this time Ian’s holding a velvet box in front of him.

“E, it was your birthday, not mine.” Mickey shakes his head, not surprised that Ian bought him something, he always does. He turns around, finally getting to look at Ian and _holy fuck_ , Mickey thinks.

His hands run over his chest, gawking shamelessly at his husband.

Ian shakes his head and smiles. “What’s mine is yours.” Those words alone send heat surging though Mickey’s body.

Mickey goes up on his tippy toes once again, Ian’s free hand pressing them close as he places a chaste kiss over his lips. He brushes their noses together before taking the box. 

What Mickey’s expecting is a watch or headphones because he lost his. What he’s _absolutely not_ expecting are keys to a Ferrari.

“What the fuck, Ian.” Mickey’s eyes flicker up to Ian whose got a wide grin on his face. He shoves Ian’s chest back but of course his reflexes are quicker, he grabs onto Mickey’s wrist and pulls him in.

“Don’t pull that shit with me.” He sets the box on the counter, hands sliding down to Mickey’s thighs to pick him up and effortlessly place him on the counter. “You wanted it, I got it.”

Mickey opens his mouth as if to say something but nothing comes out. He should know better than to say he wants something in front of Ian, of course he’ll get it.

“You’re un-fuckin-believable.” Mickey wraps his legs around Ian’s waist, until his cock is pressing against Ian’s shirt.

“Long as you think so,” Ian says, hands running up and down Mickey’s bare thighs. He squeezes the soft, meaty flesh then runs his hands up his chest. “So handsome,” he murmurs into Mickey’s neck before pressing a kiss there. 

When he moves back he uncurls the sleeves of the shirt Mickey’s wearing with a pointed look. He runs his thumbs over the diamond M cufflinks.

“Sorry,” Mickey’s whispers, remembering this is Ian’s favourite shirt.

Ian shakes his head, letting it go with a smile. “C’mon, put some clothes on and take it out for a spin.” He helps Mickey off the counter like the gentleman he is.

“What if I wanna go like this?”

Ian grabs him by the collar, until they’re chest to chest once again. “What’s yours is only mine,” he says firmly, jaw set.

Mickey’s grin falls. “I was kidding,” Mickey murmurs softly, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt albeit shyly.

Ian’s hands slide down to Mickey’s back and then to grab his ass. “Better be,” he says and then squeezes what’s his.

Mickey throws on a pair of black sweatpants, leaving Ian’s shirt on. Ian goes to put his suit jacket on and Mickey buttons it up.

“You look so fuckin good,” Mickey’s muses aloud this time, drinking in the sight of Ian in a three piece, tailor made suit.

“Thanks, baby.” Ian intertwines their hands as they make their way to the elevator, not letting go until they make it to the private parking lot. The [car](https://pin.it/uMoYqcr) is a matted black and if it didn’t stand out on its own, it sure as hell does with the red bow around it.

Ian places two cigarettes between his lips and lights them, handing one over to Mickey. Mickey unlocks the car but it’s Ian who opens the door for him.

Ian presses a sloppy kiss to his lips, free hand once again finding its way down to palm at Mickey’s ass. Unable to help himself from keeping his hands off Mickey when he’s so close to him.

“Ian,” Mickey moans, he sound so needy and Ian would be willing to go at it right here, right now if he didn’t have an important meeting.

“ _Baby_ ,” he whispers into Mickey’s mouth, patting Mickey’s ass before letting go. He gives him a wink before moving back to stand against his own car, cigarette back between his lips.

Ian crosses his ankles, smoke releasing through his nose. Mickey revs the engine, tinted windows rolling down as he steps on the pedal. The car glides with ease as Ian turns to watch Mickey make his way around the lot, drifting at each turn. He speeds up just before stopping an inch away from Ian’s knees. Ian crushes his cigarette on the ground as he rounds the driver side, leaning down.

Mickey shifts up, a hand wrapping around Ian’s nape as he kisses him. “Thanks.”

“Anything for you.” Ian presses a kiss to Mickey’s forehead and then his ear. “I need to get going.”

“But,” Mickey’s pauses. “I made you breakfast.”

Ian’s face softens at Mickey’s words. “I know, I’m sorry. How about you come by for lunch, your favourite restaurant is by my building.” He runs a hand through Mickey’s soft bed head.

“You need a reservation for that place.”

Ian grins smugly, “it’s taken care of.” He bites down on Mickey’s bottom lip before getting into his car.

Already counting doing the minutes until he can see Mickey. 

x-x-x

Ian’s office is located on the highest floor among the two name partners of the firm. He hopes to have his own name on the wall one day.

For now he takes a seat at his desk and reads through new material on his long term case. He attends an office meeting regarding a new asset before leaving to meet his client. When Ian makes it back he checks his watch, knowing Mickey will be here soon.

Ian takes a seat on his couch to continue his work, a pen behind his ear and a glass of whiskey twirling in his right hand.

He hears his footsteps, the doors closes seamlessly and then his glass is being taken out of his hand.

Mickey downs the rest of Ian’s drink in one go before placing it back in his hand. 

“You almost done?” Mickey asks. He takes a seat beside Ian, eyes flittering all over the office.

“You come into my office, take my drink and can’t even say hello?” Ian feigns disappointment.

Mickey leans forward and presses his smile into Ian’s mouth, humming as he feels Ian’s free hand wrap around his neck.

“You taste like a fuckin’ chimney.” Ian stands and making his way behind his desk. He neatly places his files down then takes a seat, finishing up work on his laptop.

“Fuck off.” Mickey walks over to the large panel windows, fingertips brushing over the items on the ledge before stopping on a frame of them. “Jesus. You still got this picture of me here?”

It’s one Mickey isn’t particularly fond of but Ian adores more and more when he sees it. 

It’s a photo Ian had taken of them standing in front of a mirror in their very first apartment. It was shitty and rusty but it worked for as long as they needed. Mickey layered in Ian’s sweaters and his face tucked into Ian’s neck.

Ian clicks a few keys before powering off his laptop. “You’re _still_ complaining about it?” He turns to Mickey, catches his wrist and pulls him between his legs. 

Ian takes Mickey’s hands in his own, checking him out completely. It never takes much for Mickey to take Ian’s breath way, especially not now. Mickey’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a dark blue button up. He forgoes the jacket and tie, leaving a button or two undone at top. Hair still freshly shaven and this time instead of gel, it’s soft and fluffy. 

Ian leans forward on his seat, head tilted up. Mickey’s hands wrap around Ian’s face as he leans down but a knock comes. 

Ian turns his head, Donna, his secretary. He waves her in with a smile and turns toward her, one hand now holding Mickey’s. 

“Sorry to interrupt boys. You’ve got a Logan Sanders here to see you and before you refuse.. I’m not sure you want to with everything coming up.” Donna smiles, eyes flickering to Mickey who’s looking away shyly. 

“Right, well.” He turns to look at Mickey then back at Donna. “Send him in but then I’ve got a hot lunch date.” 

She winks at him and then steps out. 

“This won’t be long, promise.” Ian kisses Mickey’s clothed chest then leans back. 

“I’ll wait in the car.” Mickey just about slips his hand out of Ian’s but Ian only holds on tighter. 

“Hey. I promised it won’t.” Ian stands up, hands winding around Mickey’s waist as he leans down, “you can sit on my lap later,” and peppers kisses over his lips, his jaw, his neck—

“Ian..” Mickey burrows his face in Ian’s neck, a blush spreading all over his neck and cheeks from the blatant affection. 

“Thanks, by the way,” Ian says, watching as Mickey rounds the desk and sits on the couch.

“What for?” Mickey looks up from a book Ian had laying on the coffee table. 

“Getting all dressed up for me.” Ian smirks and then his eyes drift to the glass door, seeing his client has arrived. He walks toward the front of his desk. 

“Mr. Gallagher, I apologize for the sudden drop in—“ Logan pauses his train of thought when he sees movement in his peripheral. 

“No worries. We weren’t scheduled to meet for another three days I believe— is something wrong, Mr Sanders?” Ian watches as Logan’s eyes shift back to him. 

“I- no, not at all. Just surprised to see we’ve got an audience.” 

Mickey looks at Ian, embarrassed. He’s never been a fan of Ian’s clients, least of all the young bratty ones. 

“Just as I’m surprised to see you here unannounced. How can I help?” Ian keeps his voice calm. Although he never lasts long when anyone so much as looks Mickey the wrong way, let alone speaks to him. 

Mickey stands. “Gallagher, I can wait outside.”

Ian’s brows furrow, the last thing he ever wants is for Mickey to feel out of place. 

“Well go on then,” it’s Logan who speaks, watchful gaze on Mickey. 

It’s enough to make Ian’s jaw twitch as he puts a hand up to halt Mickey immediately. “No, I think it’d be better if you left, Mr Sanders.” Ian steps into Logan’s space, straightening his back although he’s already got a few inches on the guy.

“But we’ve—“

“Don’t _ever_ ,” he pauses, watching Logan’s demeanour crumble. “Speak to my husband that way.”

Logan’s mouth falls open as he realizes. 

“Now get the hell out of my office.”

Of course Donna chooses that moment to step inside, holding the door open and watching Logan walk out without another word.

Mickey just wants to leave, he walks toward the door but Ian hooks an arm around his stomach. He pulls him back, until they’re back to chest and breathes in Mickey’s hair.

Donna closes the door behind herself.

Ian stands in front of Mickey. “Hey,” he whispers, his voice falling soft as his other hand caresses Mickey’s face. “I could kill him,” Ian muses.

Mickey snorts, hands playing with Ian’s tie. “Just kiss me.”

So Ian does. Hands snuggly wrapping around Mickey’s back and their foreheads pressed together. The kiss is laced with a bitter mix of whiskey, cigarettes and something syrupy.

“No one gets to speak to you that way. I don’t care who it is,” Ian murmurs over his lips, tightening his arms around Mickey’s small frame.

It warms Mickey’s heart when Ian talks that way, when he puts him before all else time and time again. Though at times it leaves him confused, feeling small and useless.

“Mickey, I know what you’re thinking.” Ian tilts Mickey’s chin up. “He can go fuck himself for all I care and I don’t. I wanted you here, I always want you here.” Ian leaves no room for argument as he embraces Mickey, completely enveloping him in his arms.

Once they detach, Mickey looks much more settled and Ian satisfied, they start to head out.

“You got your keys?” Mickey asks, standing by the door as Ian gathers his phone and wallet.

Ian slides his jacket through his arms and grins. “If I wanted to take my car I would’ve drove home for lunch.”

They step outside his office, Mickey walking to the elevator as Ian stops right in front of Donnas desk. “Thank you.”

“Not that there’s ever a wrong time to be thanking me but what would this be for?”

Ian huffs out a laugh, drumming his fingers on the desk. “Oh please, as if you weren’t listening in on the conversation.” He raises his brow, waiting for Donna to say otherwise.

“In that case... you’re welcome. Now go, you’ve got a hot date.” She gives him a smile and then Ian’s off.

When the elevator doors close, Ian wastes no time in pushing Mickey up against the mirrored wall, hands frantically moving as their lips collide. Breathy noises eliciting from Mickey’s throat at the surprise of Ian biting down on his neck, hands grappling at his ass.

The elevator dings and they immediately part as though nothing happened.

Mickey shoves Ian weakly and wipes at his mouth, already feeling his neck throbbing. They walk out the door hand in hand and get into Mickey’s brand new car, the bow no longer there.

Ian can’t keep his eyes off Mickey as he watches him drive, sitting behind the wheel as though the car was made for him. Ian thinks it was. 

When they make it to the diner, Ian hands the keys over to valet before stepping inside. Waving down their waitress, Jackie. She leads them through the doors to the outdoor seating that looks over the lake.

Ian slides into one side of the bench and before Mickey can slide into the other side, Ian catches his hand. Making him sit beside him instead of in front of him, placing Mickey’s thigh over his own and throwing an arm around the back.

Instinctively his mouth finds it’s way to Mickey’s neck, a hand resting overtop of Mickey’s thigh. 

“Ian, there’s people around, would you—“ he cuts his own train of thought off as a sigh leave his mouth, tilting his head the other way to give Ian more room. He squeezes Ian’s hand when his voice doesn’t come out, breaking them both from the moment.

“So, what? The offer still stands if you do wanna sit on my lap. Bet you’d like it.” 

“We came here for lunch, remember?” Mickey shifts forward as his eyes scan the menu. Trying his hardest to ignore Ian’s words- to stop himself from actually doing what he wants.

“What’s a little harm in having dessert?”

Mickey shakes his, unable to help the smile from spreading his lips, wide and carefree. “Shut up.”

“How about you make me?” Ian leans forward on his elbows, looking at Mickey. “Tonight when I come home,” his voice drops lower, only for Mickey to hear. 

A shiver runs through Mickey at the implication of those words, his body thrumming with need and desire already. He looks at Ian whose eyes have grown wide and dark with lust. “Fuck,” Mickey says over Ian’s lips before pressing them together.

The waitress comes by, takes their orders and before they know it they’re devouring their lunch over mimosas. They talk about Ian’s meeting and Mickey needing to head to his bar to see a few things over. All over a beautiful lunch with the sun shining and cool lake breeze. 

After, Mickey drops Ian off in front of his building. But before Ian steps out, he pulls Mickey in for one last kiss. “Wear the pink one.”

Mickey finds himself helplessly nodding at Ian’s words and then he’s alone in the car with his dick half hard.

x-x-x

It’s after nine when Ian arrives home. He toes off his shoes and makes his way inside, no sight or sound of Mickey. He steps into the kitchen for a glass of water, wondering if Mickey has lived up to his promise or fallen asleep.

He walks down the long corridor and turns, their bedroom door wide open and displaying the night lights through the windows. It’s when he steps inside and turns his head that he is completely stunned, his dick twitching. 

“Mickey.”

“You’re home,” Mickey says, crawling to the edge of the bed on his knees. He’s wearing exactly what Ian had asked of him, the pink [lace set](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/c8/67/a5/c867a5f7c6bc870c5828d57a366b4354.jpg) he’d been gifted a few months ago, snug all over.

Ian beams, discarding his jacket and waist coat as he takes a few steps closer. He licks his lips and looks Mickey up and down. “You’re so beautiful.”

Mickey’s skin burns, his insides too. He kneels down and squeezes his legs together, already feeling the strain of his cock against the lace.

Ian untucks his shirt, then loosens his tie. He tilts his head at Mickey who’s looking down. “Look at me when I talk, Mickey. I wanna see your face when I tell you how fuckable you look.”

Mickey’s mouth parts at Ian’s words, he wants to reach forward and grab Ian but he knows he can’t. “Ian.”

Ian’s brows raise as he stands in front of Mickey. His fingers trail down the straps then rub over his nipples, Mickey’s head falls back and he whines.

Ian takes both of Mickey’s hands and helps him to his knees once again then holds onto his hips. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of fucking you.” Ian rubs Mickey’s cock softly over the lace, feeling the wet spot already starting to form.

“Please.” Mickey’s hands drape over Ian’s shoulders as he rocks into Ian’s hand desperately.

Ian presses a kiss to Mickey’s lips and smiles at Mickey’s desperation. “Turn around, pretty baby.”

Mickey turns and settles on his hands and knees, his lip between his teeth.

Ian lets his nails drag over Mickey’s ass, watching red lines appear and just as quickly disappear. He lets his hands smooth over Mickey’s soft skin, a finger brushing over the cleft of his ass.

Mickey’s breath audibly hitches as he pushes back into the movement, he needs more, he always needs more.

“Greedy. Thought I filled you up enough this weekend.”

“Never enough,” Mickey says breathlessly.

Ian hums and moves the lace between Mickey’s ass aside, holding it down with one hand as the other runs over his hole. “Still stretched and loose for me.”

“Stop fuckin teasing.. please.” Mickey turns his head as much as he can.

Without so much a warning, Ian sucks a finger into his mouth then watches it breach Mickey’s hole, easily closing around him.

“Stop whining.” Ian pushes his finger in and out before removing it completely. He hovers right over Mickey’s ass, his mouth open and watches as his saliva drips down and between his cheeks. “Look so good like this, Mick.” Ian is already breathless as he runs a his big, soft hand down Mickey’s back. “Look at me.”

Mickey sits up and turns on shaky legs, obediently looking up at Ian. He rocks down on his legs impulsively, trying to relieve the strain.

“I love you.” Ian’s hands wrap around Mickey’s face as he kisses his mouth. He hears Mickey moan deep in his throat as he bites his lip and drawls it out.

“I- I love you, too,” Mickey chokes out and then he’s being pushed down into a laying position.

Ian lets his eyes run all over Mickey’s body because it’s the finest piece of art he’ll ever lay his eyes on. The flush all over him that matches his skimpy set, the way the silk belts sit so tight around his milky thighs.  


He takes his tie off and slowly unbuttons his shirt, throwing it all aside. He bends Mickey’s knees and holds one leg up, kissing his ankle and moving up slowly.

Mickey sighs and he whimpers, sinking deeper into the soft sheets as he watches Ian touch him so delicately.

Ian repeats the same on the other leg, nipping at his skin before settling in between Mickey, hands on either side of him to keep himself up. “Look at you, always being so good for me.” Ian leans down and kisses Mickey’s stomach, biting the lace and licking his way up.

Mickey thrusts his hips up, unable to stop himself and wraps his hands around Ian’s head. He finds himself wanting to say something, begging for more more—“Ian,”—more. 

Ian looks into Mickey’s eyes, can see the mirrored desire and need displayed within them and can’t help it anymore. He pulls Mickey up and into his arms, walking them to the bathroom.

The bathroom is lit up from downtown lights and a flickering behind Ian’s eyes. When he opens them and moves from Mickey’s neck, he’s met with candles scattered everywhere. Two glasses of champagne are set by the tub and his favourite part is the tub filled with rose pedals.

“You knew,” he whispers, arms wrapping around Mickey’s back. “You wanted me to bend you over in the tub, huh?”

“Figured you deserved an extra day for your birthday weekend.”

Ian walks toward their floor length mirror and lets Mickey down. Mickey tucks his face in Ian’s neck, his backside in complete view of the mirror and Ian’s hand possessively holding his ass. He takes a picture or three, instantly feeling himself harden in his slacks. 

He sets his phone down and helps Mickey in. Mickey watches as Ian strips and joins Mickey in the tub. He sits first then watches as Mickey straddles his lap. Water lapping all around them as Ian’s cock slides over Mickey’s cleft.

Ian sighs, head falling back and arms settling around the tub. “My cock won’t ride itself, Mickey baby.” Ian’s looks at Mickey through his lashes, “you hear me?”

Mickey stumbles forward, at last stroking Ian’s hardened cock. He moves the lace aside and lines himself up, slowly, _slowly_ sinking down. His hands grip onto the side of the tub as he bottoms out, whimpering and heaving loudly.

Mickey starts rolling his hips and picks up the rhythm. He watches as Ian’s eyes roll back and Mickey can’t, can’t, _can’t_ — “Ian, touch me. Touch me, please.”

Ian sits up straight, raising Mickey’s thighs then snaps his own up.

Mickey grunts with each bounce, his eyes flutter open and are met with the city below. Clearly neither of them thought to draw the shades and Mickey can’t seem to care either. “So good.”

“You take it so good.” Ian brings his hands up and pours the water all over Mickey’s body, rose pedals sticking to him. He runs his hands through Mickey’s hair, licking away the water droplets that run down his face. “Look so good soaking wet.”

Mickey’s head falls back, hands gripping at Ian’s shoulders as he continues with a brutal pace, water overflowing and spilling. “Harder... harder, Ian..”

Ian sees stars in his eyes, he stops Mickey with a bruising hold on his hips and lifts him up. He switches their positions seamlessly— Mickey on his knees, both able to see their reflection through the window. Ian gently slides into Mickey and then slams in all at once. He grabs onto the lace band for leverage as he thrusts forward, a soft, big hand freeing Mickey’s dick and stroking it. 

Mickey cry’s out, touch starved. He fucks into Ian’s hand then back onto his cock, feeling heat churn in his belly. “I’m—“

Ian doesn’t let Mickey finish his thought as he pounds into him quicker, both of them move in tune with every thrust and push until they're both panting. Their eyes meet through the reflection and Mickey shudders. Ian knows its game over as Mickey spills into his hand and he fills Mickey up, groaning with satisfaction.

Mickey’s head dips forward, sinking into the tub as Ian pulls out achingly slow. Even surrounded by water, Mickey can feel cum dripping out of him as he turns around.

Ian slouches against the other end of the tub breathlessly. “Look at that view.”

Mickey doesn’t need to turn his head to remember what it looked like to be riding Ian with the city view. “Better than the lake house?” his voice is slurred and raw as he lets his head tip back. 

Ian shakes his head at Mickey’s obliviousness. “ _You,_ ” he says. “I’m talking about you and how fucking beautiful and perfect you are, Mickey.”

Mickey’s eyes radiate fire, unable to take the heat, he sinks into the tub. When he comes back up and runs a hand over his face, he’s still hot all over 

“Why do you get so shy? I’m your fuckin husband.” Ian grabs a glass and narrows his eyes on Mickey as he drinks.

“Cause.” Mickey shrugs, pulling the top from over his head and tossing it toward Ian.

Ian catches it in his free hand. “How elaborative—“

Suddenly Mickey’s underwear is being thrown at him, Ian leans forward and snatches it between his teeth. He sets the glass and lace top down and removes the underwear from his mouth with a smug look. “I bet these were soaking like this before you got in here.”

Mickey stands on his knees, crawling toward Ian and then turns to settle in his lap. Grabbing the other glass and downing half of it in one go.

“Hi, baby,” Ian coos, tongue licking the shell of his ear.

Mickey kisses Ian’s jaw, revelling in the comfort of being wrapped in Ian’s arms. “S’cold,” he murmurs.

Ian smears his lips all over Mickey’s cheek, his temple and shoulder, he presses their bodies together, comforting and warm. Savouring their post orgasmic glow before stepping out of the tub.

Ian helps Mickey stand, they wash up in the shower quickly and when they step out, Ian wraps a robe and his arms around Mickey. 

x-x-x

Ian walks out of their closet in sweatpants, a pair in his hands that he throws at Mickey who’s laying in bed already.

“What was your favourite gift?” Mickey asks. He thinks of wearing the schoolgirl set that Ian was completely turned on by, the surprise candle dinner, the new button ups and ties, everything that happened tonight. Most of all he thinks of the look in Ian’s eyes when he took him to his bar for a drink and ordered The Ginger Prince.

Ian’s eyes had welled with tears. Mickey had named a drink after him.

He comes back to reality when he feels Ian crawling on top of him.

“That’s easy.” Ians lays over Mickey, inches apart with the most beautiful smile he’s ever smiled and simply says, “you. Always you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> other things mentioned; [surprise dinner date](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cf/36/de/cf36de6f87885980934cea22c7b712c8.jpg), [lake/beach house](https://twitter.com/interiorporn1/status/1299083818230521856?s=21)


End file.
